Long term report: Renault Twizy


Renault Twizy

Stop press! I may have just discovered the greatest thing about our long term Renault Twizy.

It is located on the left steering wheel stalk and it has single-handedly made my lunch hour several times more enjoyable.

A quick rotation of the mysterious plastic barrel - that is labelled with a sort of speaker and some squiggly lines - makes the lil' Twizler bleat an eerie futuristic warning note.

I discovered this in a Waitrose car park during my lunch break while I patiently waited for a couple elderly ladies to cross the road ahead.

Naturally, I got bored of their ambling, so randomly fiddled with buttons and then, shazam!

The noise sounded like a Dalek with its appendage stuck in a door hinge, the old ladies looked shocked (and thankfully scurried across the road) and I drove off armed with possibly the coolest feature to ever appear on a vehicle.

I now play a game where I utilise the Twizy's almost silent drivetrain to stealthily approach unwitting (and usually really slow) lunchtime supermarket car park users and blast them with a dollop of the old UFO ray gun noise.

The best thing is, you can't really get punched for anti-social behaviour because the creepy alien tone is designed to forewarn pedestrians of the Twizy's silent and potentially dangerous approach.

If anything, I'm doing Waitrose shoppers a favour.

In other news, I discovered that the little plastic windows that shoddily screw into the Twizy's doorframes and offer slight respite from torrential downpours actually prevent the scissor doors from opening.

Exiting the little electric vehicle now requires a quick rabbit punch to the window, which bows the rickety frames enough to clear the Twizy's roofline.

Other than that, it has been it usual, fantastically fun self.

Oh, and AOL Writer James Baggott's 6'4" frame can fit in the back... with his luggage. Impressive, huh?